My cats dropped a kibble, in their feasting frenzy, on the barren playa of my kitchen floor. Instead of swarming it, like they do with my human scatterings, the household ants encircled it, camped close to it, and, I swear, worshipped this nugget of sustenance for the nourishing value it must have contained. Is this what you folks do at Black Rock? Is this a loaded question? Am I loaded? There is no Reality, only Perspective...and from my Perspective, benevolent above the grouted tile, these ants LOVE their kibble-art, dropped from on-high by the gods of the holy hairball. I won't go to Reno, 'cuz The Truth is apparently here on my kitchen floor. I'll leave it 'til Labor Day when, at the appropriate moment, I'll fucken sweep that shit up and throw it away...hey, man, what did you expect...Art is Fleeting...dig?

Know1 wrote:... I'll leave it 'til Labor Day when, at the appropriate moment, I'll fucken sweep that shit up and throw it away...

No, no, no. Don't sweep up the kibble-art. You want to burn the kibble-art. Right there in the barren playa of your kitchen. It'll be awesome. Remember to do a little poi dancing first, and don't forget to get blind-stinking drunk afterwards.

This morning what appeared to be the same dozen were around The Nugget, but a big long line of traffic was stretching from it to the back door...roughly the same scaled distance as Reno to Gerlach? Tie-dyed body armor and itty-bitty water bottles. I'll wait for their music to start then I'm freaken' splittin' Jack!

Watch out for the ants that arrive after Wednesday. Mixed in with them will be some experienced ants, but many will be the weekend-warrior-looky-loo type ants. Spill a quarter-shot of tequila on the floor and watch them all dance around your 90 proof pyramid lake. If you have any popsicle sticks and a little glue, you could build a Temple of Tequila for the little bastards; then burn it on Sunday night. Got any old Hot Wheels or Matchbox cars? Their DMV would appreciate it I'm sure, but make sure they're radically altered first. At some point during their festivities, take a handful of baby powder and get down on your knees and blow it right in their little faces. They'll be staggerin' around drunk with their pasty white faces... Hehe.

Huh...they all left...bored, I guess...but, then, what would you expect from dillet-ants.

They *did* do a pretty good job decorating the ant-traps I laid out...microscopic strobe lights and sound systems with speakers the size of pin-heads...trance dance for the ants...reeling from the bad E I put out for them.

Domo arrigato, Sensei. I will use your kind suggestions should I get my act together and actually take it out on That Road...or check out what's happening elsewhere...another room, another insect specie.